


It Doesn't Matter

by Shakespeares_Girl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Non Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-21
Updated: 2010-03-21
Packaged: 2017-10-14 22:20:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/154090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shakespeares_Girl/pseuds/Shakespeares_Girl





	It Doesn't Matter

**It Doesn't Matter (or "Dean and Cas in a Crummy Motel Room, Part One)  
**  
 **Warnings 'n' such:**   Well . . . there are consent issues, to say the least.  And angel!porn.  And my beta says I'm insane.  Let's see . . . I think that's it for part one.

Oh, I should probably mention:  this is meant to be a sort of a sequel to something I wrote, hated and scrapped.  In that fic, there was a long, complicated and quite involved relationship between Sam, Dean and Jimmy Novak, Castiel's vessel.  Pretty much, the most important thing you need to know about that fic is that Dean and Jimmy became good friends almost instantly, and then went on to become lovers.  The whole premise of the fic was built around the fact that Dean couldn't let himself fall in love with Jimmy because Castiel was coming back, and they only had a certain amount of time together.  When Cas comes back, Dean is devastated to realize he's fallen in love despite himself, and now that he's realized it, isn't able to tell Jimmy.  So, that should set us up for this piece.

 

“Dean.”

Dean looks up from the gun he's been cleaning and has to stop himself from shooting the angel.  “What?”

“I wish to know what passed between you and Jimmy Novak while I was away,” Castiel says.

“No.”  It's a flat out refusal, and Cas isn't used to that.  Dean almost smiles in malicious pleasure at the affronted look the angel wears.

“And if I commanded it?”

“The answer is no, Cas.  Command, complain, whatever.  Just don't expect me to actually tell you anything.”  Dean goes back to polishing and cleaning, putting the gun back together and snapping in a clip of ammo.  “And stop asking.”

Castiel quirks his head, and Dean wants once more to shoot the angel.  If it would do any good, he might try it.  As it is, it'll probably just piss Cas off, which is one thing he doesn't need.  Pissed off Cas is damn scary, even to Dean, who knows that Cas will (probably) never hurt him.  Dean briefly considers blowing his own head off, but that would only get him yanked out of hell again.  Besides which, he has no desire to ever go back to hell.  Not even for the few days it would take Cas to get there and rescue him.

“Dean, I want to know why you are so resistant to my presence.  You were not before I left, and now you seem to hate me.”

“Of course I hate you.  You would hate you too, if you were me and I was you, and you had come and taken away the one thing that actually meant something to me.”

“I do not understand.”

Dean slams the gun down and pushes himself up out of the chair.  “No, you don't,” he agrees, voice dangerous.  “You don't understand, and you never will, because who would love a dick like you?”  Cas looks ready to interrupt, but Dean doesn't give him time.  “You want to know what Jimmy and I shared?  Fine.”

Crowding into Castiel's personal space, Dean grabs at the trench coat lapels and pulls Cas close.  They were inches apart, then centimeters, and then, to Castiel's surprise, Dean shoves him across the room and into the wall.  “Dean--”

“Shut up,” Dean hisses.  Dean's hands are on Cas' biceps, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, and if Cas weren't an angel, he thinks he'd be in considerable pain.  Curiously, he dims his grace a little, and the pain is there, slicing into him like a dull knife-blade.  Dean's face is close to Castiel's again, and his breath is hot on Castiel's cheek.  “This is what we shared,” Dean bites out.  “This is what you can never have.”

Cas dims his grace further, and to his surprise, a little moan escapes his lips as Dean's mouth latches on to the side of his neck.  Dean scrapes teeth over the stubble and sucks at the skin viciously.  Cas wants to whimper and cry out, but he doesn't know how to get his body to work, and now Dean's biting along his jaw, sharp little nips that illicit an involuntary yelp from Cas.  A hot tongue licks around the inside of his ear, and then there's suction at his earlobe, and those horrible, wonderful teeth are biting at it, almost trying to bite through it, except that somewhere inside, Castiel knows that Dean would never cause permanent damage.

It doesn't matter anyway, because Dean's moved on again, and now there's a mouth over Castiel's.  Dean's mouth is over Castiel's, and he's licking and sucking at the seam of Cas' lips, and now that Cas has opened his mouth on a moan, there's Dean's tongue inside, relentless and hard even as Cas melts into him, melts for him.  He moans again, and Dean tugs Castiel's lower lip between his teeth, pulling just enough to hurt.  Castiel can hear himself making a broken noise, and then Dean's shoving him away, making him stumble and bang his head against the wall as he tries to right himself.

“There,” Dean growls, hardly out of breath.  “You got what you came for.  Now get out.”

“Dean . . .” Cas tries, unsure what he's going to say next, if it's an apology or if he's going to beg not to be turned away.  Dean just sneers.

“I don't want you, Cas.  I want him.  Now get out, before I do something I'll regret.”

Castiel leaves, more out of confusion than fear of what Dean will do to him.  He wants more.  More of Dean's hands bruising him, and Dean's mouth owning him, and the fluttery-sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

But he doesn't know how to ask for it.  And he shouldn't want it in the first place.  Besides which, he has to acknowledge that Dean doesn't want it.  That thought hurts more than it should, but it's the one that plays constantly in Castiel's mind as he speeds toward his safe-haven.

Dean doesn't want it.

Dean doesn't want him.

 **A/N:  Ah, the glorious and delicious angst.  I do love a nice, broken boy to play with and grind beneath my bootheel.**   
  



End file.
